DADDY
Constance L. Amy
This poem is to my Father,
Who’s passing I still mourn.
He was a tall man,
a proud man.
Who could never express himself ,
in words.
I grew up never knowing,
or realizing how much,
I was loved.
Cancer took my Father,
in the spring of,
my 28th year.
As I walked into the nursing home,
I knew this would be the last time,
that my Father, and myself, would
ever spend time together.
I remembered my Mother telling me;
“your Father’s not the man,
he used to be.”
I recall those words up to this,
very day.
Those words haunt me even more,
when I think of the last time, I
saw my Father alive.
Somehow, someway,
my Father knew also,
this time together,
would surely be our last!
I remember the sound of dismal silence,
as I stood inside his room.
I heard my Father ask, when we,
would be returning to Loring Maine?
I asked myself, “ how in the world,
did he know.” I hadn’t said a word!
as to when we would be leaving.
I replied with as natural smile,
as I could muster.
“Sometime in the next few days.”
I told my Father he couldn’t leave me!
I wasn’t ready to say,
good-bye.
As the tears streamed down my face,
I took my Father’s hand.
The hand I held was clammy, cold
and feeble.
Not like the hand,
I once remembered.
I couldn’t think of anything, to say.
Instead I just stared.
At this man, I once called “DADDY.”
Who all of a sudden, this man
became a stranger,
inside my Father’s body.
The only words that I could think to say,
were “DADDY I love you,
Please don’t go away.”
With a face that showed no expression.
Without a tear in his eye.
My Father said; “I love you too.”
Then he close his eyes.
What I couldn’t understand then,
and what I don’t understand
17 years later?
Why does death?
bring truth, to
those it leaves
behind.
We should never take for granted,
those that we hold so very dear.
Never being afraid to tell,
those closest to us,
that we love them.
Also; letting them know;
how very much we care.
While they are very much alive...
